


I got that Feeling

by saladhime



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sharing Clothes, and lowkey a disaster but he's cute and it works out so ig he wins! iconic, caps is a sweetheart but we been knew lol, perkz/jankos r caps protection squad and mikyx has been arrested for anime crimes, shy wunder is rlly rlly good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22937110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saladhime/pseuds/saladhime
Summary: martin's clothes go missing, and the culprit is somehow not what he's expecting(it's a good thing, though)
Relationships: Martin "Wunder" Hansen/Rasmus "Caps" Winther
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	I got that Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> i'm back with more tooth-rotting caps/wunder fluff bc i have brainrot for these two i cannot help this :(  
> anyway! like literally every other fic this started out short and then got out of hand so. please enjoy it!!! 
> 
> p.s. i DO have a playlist of music that i use when i write fics for these two so i recommend giving it a listen while you read this fic! it's not required but it's jus some flavor listening lol:  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5lgF5XQDMWQ8tNmjlyEoSI?si=AdM9M5sPQN2EV-x90VMxgQ

Martin notices fairly quickly that he’s missing one too many black t-shirts around the time he and the rest of G2 begin prepping for Worlds. 

Sure, t-shirts are cheap, and G2 seems to throw new merch at everyone on a near weekly basis, so it’s not like he’s doomed.

But.

Those were  _ Martin’s  _ fucking shirts _.  _ That he  _ bought.  _

And they were going missing at a rate that was honestly starting to get pretty fucking absurd. He would laugh if he wasn’t running out of apparel that wasn’t decorated with some variant of the G2 logo. They were good and all, but it was nice to have brandless clothes in his wardrobe. 

Speaking of wardrobes, it also didn’t quite help that he was on a team filled with  _ gamers _ . Which meant that fashion in the gaming house consisted of whatever G2 threw at them for the season, plus t-shirts of their own. And if you weren’t Mihael (a.k.a. a fucking  _ weeb _ ), they tended to  _ also  _ stick with plain black t-shirts. Just his luck this sort of thing would happen to him.

Of course, despite his best efforts, a couple of days pass without any good leads, and he drops it. After all, while it's bothersome (and kinda...weird?), it soon fizzles in place of Worlds prep with the rest of his team. So, he sucks it up and queues for some soloQ, keeping an eye out on Hampus’s texts giving him updates on his beloved gnome mage.

-

Rasmus is really, really,  _ really  _ cute. 

Martin had always known this, that Rasmus was charming (and importantly, cute), even from the brief conversations they’d had while the other was still on FNATIC. He just had a goofy energy that pulled you in, making him impossibly endearing, and that only seemed to bloom when he’d joined G2, giggly and surprisingly shy. 

From that moment on, Martin knew he was doomed ( _‘you’re actually stupidly_ _whipped no?_ ’ as Luka and Marcin put it, the no-good, scheming bastards). 

Despite Martin’s near-instant infatuation with Rasmus, they hadn’t really become close until a couple weeks into the spring season. Martin remembers when the other Dane had come up to him, nervously asking if they could 1v1,  _ ‘we’re solo-laners, so it could be really fun, yeah?’  _ he remembers Rasmus saying, a shaky giggle coming after.

Of course, Martin can’t pass up the opportunity, so he says yes. Turns out, their champ pools blend together better than they’d thought, and they spent the afternoon sharing different picks and strategies with one another, giggles and smiles shared in the near empty scrim room between each other. 

It’s a cherished memory to Martin, and after that, the two 1v1’ed often. It would sometimes draw an audience (Rasmus’s excitement was infectious and seemed to draw their other teammates to him like a moth to a lamp), and it would sometimes just be about enjoying each other’s presence. 

Of course, in these moments, Martin learns more about Rasmus in between their queue wait times, the two just talking about anything. And while he adored those moments, it was dangerous. The butterflies from those months earlier fluttering and flowering with each piece of himself the mid-laner gave to Martin. The feelings he’d worked hard to swallow back for the sake of getting along and being able to  _ be  _ this close to Rasmus threatening to spill almost every time. 

He can’t help it when Rasmus opens up to him, trusting and vulnerable in a way he just  _ isn’t  _ with Luka, Marcin or Mihael. And that drives him crazy (Luka, Marcin and Mihael are all very amused by his hopeless pining, unsurprisingly). 

Rift Rivals and MSI don’t help, either. The thrill of winning MSI not only with his precious teammates, but with  _ Rasmus  _ makes the medal that hangs above his PC all the more special. Rift Rivals was different, however. He remembers Rasmus knocking on his hotel room then, a light flush spreading on his face and eyes averted. It was quite the sight. He blinked as Rasmus asked for a shirt to sleep in for the night, and Martin blinked once more, processing what the younger had asked. 

He wanted. One of Martin’s shirts.

He asked for  _ one of Martin’s shirts  _

**_ONE OF MARTIN’S SHIRTS._ **

It’s when Rasmus tilts his head to the side in confusion that Martin decides that staring blankly and nearly hyperventilating is  _ not  _ the best move when an opportunity to interact with your crush is quite literally in front of you. So he stutters out a  _ ‘s-sure. just give me a sec. you can come in and pick if ya want’  _ he adds, wincing slightly, and hoping he didn’t come on too strongly. He’s pleasantly surprised to see that Rasmus breaks out into a bright grin, squeezing past Martin and commenting on his room’s state, much to Martin’s mortification.

_ “How the hell did you manage to get a hotel room messy in the span of 3 hours?!” _

-

Eventually, after helping Martin sort out his luggage in a way that made the room livable, Rasmus hummed as he looked through Martin’s assortment of t-shirts. He saw Rasmus carefully weigh his options, before he plucked a plain, but worn black t-shirt from the pile. There’s something in his eyes that Martin can’t distinguish, much to his displeasure, but doesn’t dwell on it as Rasmus stands, turning to Martin, holding the shirt up. 

“Can I wear this one?” He asks eyes wide.

“Sure, ‘course you can.” Martin replies, trying to keep his voice level.

Rasmus beams up at him, saying a quick  _ ‘thank you!’  _ heading to the bathroom to change.

When Rasmus comes out, having changed into sleep shorts and Martin’s shirt, he can feel his throat close up. As he thought, the shirt practically swallows Rasmus’s form, and it doesn’t help that the shorts are hardly visible, the Adidas stripes barely peeking out and leaving Martin with a pretty good view of not only Rasmus’s collarbones, but his lithe legs. It takes all his willpower not to run out of the room and out as far away from the smaller man as he can, and gives a soft grin to Rasmus as he turns to face Martin, sure that his face is as red as a tomato. 

Rasmus laughs softly, and Martin worries for the briefest of moments before he finds that there’s no malice to his laughter, so he chuckles back, and the two stand in the hall by the door, a sudden wave of nervous tension hanging in the air. It’s then that Martin can see the faintest of pink bloom on Rasmus’s round cheeks, and something in him snaps. 

He moves closer, ever so slowly, as not to intimidate Rasmus, grabbing one of his slender hands in his own larger ones. Martin hears Rasmus’s breath hitch, and he thumbs gently at Rasmus’s fingers, before bringing it up to press a tender kiss to the skillful yet delicate digits. When he pulls back, he looks over to see a red-faced Rasmus, eyebrows pulled up in surprise. 

They stay like that for what feels like hours, just staring at each other in this fragile moment, daring not to move, as if it would break this trance they’d fallen into. 

He breaks it of course, unable to contain the butterflies and their incessant flapping within him at this point. 

“Hey, uh...can I kiss you?” He whispers ever-so-softly, looking directly into Rasmus’s round, wide, eyes, searching for a sign that he shouldn’t move any closer, to back off. He doesn’t find it, though, and the sweetest of giggles fills his ears then. 

“Of course you can, silly.” Rasmus says warmly.

Martin obliges, of course, and he lifts his hands up then, cupping Rasmus’s cheeks within them, and tilts his head up. He leans in then, and meets the latter’s lips halfway, relishing the way Rasmus shyly presses his lips against Martin’s own. He can feel Rasmus’s hands come up then to rest on Martin’s broad shoulders as he pulls back from the short and chaste kiss. He gives a second for each of them to catch their breath, before he leans back in for another. This time, he presses his own lips a bit more firmly against Rasmus’s, relishing not only the sweetness of the younger’s lips, but the quiet moans that slipped from him and the way his fingers tightened against the fabric covering his shoulders. 

When they pulled back, Martin couldn’t help the sappy smile that bloomed on his face, and pressed a couple of chaste kisses along Rasmus’s face, admiring the giggles that sprouted from the action. 

It was here, in some random hotel in LA, with Rasmus wrapped in his arms and wearing his clothes that Martin realized that the butterflies now buzzed with contentedness.

-

They’d confessed officially the next morning, and defined themselves as boyfriends.

Boyfriends! Boyfriends!  _ Boyfriends!!! _

When they told the rest of their teammates (a decision the two made together, confident that it’d go over well), they were met with noogies and boisterous congratulations. It actually made Martin pretty sentimental, seeing his teammates so supportive of the two of them. Of course, Martin also had Jerkz gripping his shoulders, whispering all sorts of threats if he did  _ anything  _ to their beloved mid-laner, while Mihael and Rasmus giggled in the background, probably talking about anime or whatever. 

-

Fast-forward back to Worlds prep, and Martin is stewing over his missing shirts, and soloQ doesn’t really help in smothering or distracting him from that frustration, so he closes the client and shuts off his monitor. He sits for a moment before standing and deciding to head over to Rasmus’s room, knowing that he’d be able to give respite to Martin in his time of turmoil. He pointedly ignores the kissy noises from Luka and Marcin, simply flipping the bird as he leaves the room and over to his boyfriend’s room.

When he approaches the door, he can hear muffled singing, and Martin grins in amusement. Rasmus packing is a joy, and he’s made it a lot more bearable, Martin has found. He doesn’t want to stop the karaoke session the mid-laner is having, and so decides to sneak in, carefully closing the door as he steps in, and keeping his movements collected and calm. However, when he sees Rasmus’s silhouette, he can’t help the gasp that leaves his mouth.

Standing there, phone off to the side, blasting some pop song Martin hasn’t heard before, the top-laner feels an odd sense of deja vu, along with shock. 

Rasmus is in the ratty black t-shirt from Rift Rivals and the same sleep shorts, an outfit while fairly common for the younger to wear, still affected Martin quite a bit. There was something about Rasmus being swathed in Martin’s clothes that made Martin weak in pretty much every way, It was definitely a weakness. 

However, the gasp was for more than just wardrobe choice, as the source of his frustration for the past couple of days laid right in front of him.

_ Rasmus  _ had been the one swiping his t-shirts! 

Suddenly, the frustration and anger of the situation faded, and soon replaced with a sort of endearment. While sure, he was still a bit annoyed that the shirts had been taken without saying anything (Martin would’ve  _ gladly  _ given his tiny boyfriend his shirts, it was  _ Rasmus  _ after all), Martin couldn’t but feel charmed. Luckily, the music had been just loud enough that Rasmus hadn’t noticed the taller male behind him, leaving him open for Martin to wrap his arms around his adorable boyfriend.

Which he did.

The yelp that came from Rasmus made Martin burst out into laughter, and the sound made Rasmus immediately relax into his arms, looking up at the top-laner with a bright grin.

“You scared me, jerk!” he exclaimed, but there was no bite to the words.

“You left yourself open,  _ elskede.”  _ Martin replied cheekily, sticking out his tongue before pressing a kiss to Rasmus’s head. He smirked when he pulled back to see a soft pink bloom on Rasmus’s face, and moved to stand beside his boyfriend, gazing at the pile of stolen t-shirts on the bed.

Rasmus, who was still cooling off from the affection, took a moment, soon turning back to his luggage when he realized that Martin had seen the collection of assorted shirts he’d taken from the top-laner. Biting his lip to prevent another laugh from spilling out of his lips, Martin watched as Rasmus attempted to sputter out an answer to his taller boyfriend. 

“...-ere’s a reason I promise and I’ll give them back its just that they’re comforting and I’m pretty nervous about Worlds so this’ll help and i thi-” Rasmus is stopped mid-sentence then when Martin presses a finger to the younger’s lips, face hopelessly affectionate towards the other Dane. 

“It’s okay  _ Musling.  _ You can keep them, just let me know that you’re taking them _ ,  _ okay? If it’s you, whatever is mine is yours...especially if it’s something that brings you that much comfort, like clothes.” He murmured, tugging Rasmus into a hug, cooing as Rasmus buried his face into Martin’s chest, letting the sappy pop music lull them into contentedness.

After they’d pulled back, Rasmus considerably less nervous and Martin considerably less annoyed, he moved to help Rasmus finish packing, unable to help pressing random kisses along Rasmus’s body, even grabbing one of his supple buttocks to tease, making his boyfriend pout up at him. 

Miraculously, they finished, with Rasmus flopping onto the bed as Martin moved the suitcase over by the door, flopping next to his boyfriend and grabbing his hand to play with it lazily.

“We’re gonna take it all Rasmus, we’re gonna do it.” He said then, kissing Rasmus gently, and cherished the soft grunt that came as an answer, curling around his lovely boyfriend protectively, lulled to sleep by his soft breaths and the gentle evening breeze from the window.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> btw! i've got finals coming up, so i'm probably gonna go quiet for a bit, but hopefully by then i'll return with chapter 2 of indigo! thank you all so much for your kind words, they're super motivating, and hopefully you all have a great rest of yall's day/night! <3


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